Iridescent
by RAVen05
Summary: After an unexpected shift in the war, two already heavy-laden sparks meet on an old battlefield seeking a peace both were intimately familiar with – death. OP/Megatron. SPOILERS for "Dark of the Moon"


**WARNING**:

Contains spoilers to the upcoming "Dark of the Moon" movie. Don't read if you don't want to know!

_Summary_: After an unexpected shift in the war, two already heavy-laden sparks meet on an old battlefield seeking a peace both were intimately familiar with – death.

_Characters_: Optimus Prime/Megatron

_Rating_: Mature

_Author's Note_: This is the result of several things, one being my desire to just write _something_ late last night. Also, as many times as I've watched Linkin Park's video for Iridescent for the new movie, I can't help but feel like it's more about Megatron than it is Optimus. In any case, the following happened and I hope y'all enjoy it. Thought I'd finally given up writing smut, but…nope.

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><p><strong>Iridescent<strong>

_"When you were standing in the wake of devastation_  
><em>when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown<em>  
><em>with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now<em>  
><em>you were there, impossibly alone.<em>

_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation_  
><em>you build up all the failiures all you've known<em>  
><em>remember all the sadness and frustration<em>  
><em>and let it go, let it go." <em>

_- Linkin Park_

For as long as the war had been taking place, Optimus expected he would be used to its surprises and unexpected turns. By this point, he felt he should be immune to the betrayals and failures.

Sentinel Prime had proved that wrong and the blow was deep and hard and personal. Everything was falling apart now, the Autobots' human allies turning against them one-by-one, their demands that the Autobots leave loud and clear. In a desperate moment to find peace, Optimus all but fled to a place that brought far more tranquility than it should have.

He gazed across the vast array of downed trees, the scene quiet as the earth healed itself from the battle not so long ago. A short few years, if that much, since Megatron plunged his blade through Optimus' chest, killing him, extinguishing his spark. Optimus absently rubbed at his chest plates, remembering with shameful pleasure at how peaceful it had been after that.

"Longing for my blade once more, Prime?"

The harsh, broken voice was still unmistakably Megatron's.

Optimus barely turned his head to see his age-old enemy. The broken voice only hinted at how haggard the warlord appeared. The makeshift cloak did little to hide the twisted and fragmented frame.

"Longing for your power over the Decepticons?" Optimus shot back, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

Megatron just 'humphed' and limped forward so that he was standing next to the Prime.

"I don't know that there's anything left to lead," he said gruffly moments later.

Optimus meant to argue before realizing that he agreed with the statement.

"Sentinel has stolen the war from both of us," he added a moment later.

Megatron scoffed, then, shaking his head slightly.

"Good riddance, then," he growled. "With the mess we've made of it…"

It was the closest Optimus had ever heard the warlord come to admitting he was wrong. Yet, how often had Optimus been wrong as well?

"Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"I suppose we could kill each other and be done with it," Megatron answered with surprising ease, as if they were old friends discussing the weather.

"We could," Optimus replied.

They fell into silence once more, nature around them filling in with its own soundtrack. A Blue Jay swooped down from the jagged remains of a tree and landed on Megatron's shoulder, crying out its song. The dark mech glared at it in annoyance, the movement startling the creature away.

For a moment, their optics met before both looked away.

"It doesn't have to end with violence, even if that's how it began," Optimus said in a low voice.

"I don't sleep with the enemy," Megatron growled, giving the Prime a dark look.

"Are we even enemies anymore?" answered the other gently.

Megatron turned to face him this time, his frame tense, ready to fight. Optimus, on the other hand, felt himself relaxing, recognizing that he would either die once more or, for a brief moment, _not_ be at war with the mech before him.

The Lord High Protector charged forward, shoving Optimus back and into the scarred earth, his weight following and pinning Optimus down. The Prime hissed and couldn't help but struggle for a moment before going still.

The dark mech gazed down at him, his optics giving nothing away.

Optimus growled then, impatient.

"Either kill me or frag me," he snapped.

Megatron gave a loud, sharp laugh as he leered at the mech beneath him.

"Might do both," he teased.

"Well hurry up about it."

Another harsh chuckle and then clawed hands were moving across Optimus' frame, setting sensors on fire and forcing a low groan from the Prime. There was a level of frantic need in the way Megatron moved, leaving Optimus with his own desperate need for something he couldn't describe.

A hand coasted over his interface panel, making him gasp and arch into the touch. Megatron took advantage of the movement to bite at Optimus' neck, lapping up the spilled energon. Optimus moved his own hands, now free, to touch the scarred frame above him. He paused at the freshest marks – those marring Megatron's face.

"I did this," he said softly.

Megatron went still, his optics flickering darkly.

"No sentiments, Prime," he said darkly.

Understandable, Optimus mused as he moved his hand once more.

Megatron stared at him for a moment longer before returning to his fervent pace. The hand at Optimus' panel grew more demanding, persuading the covering to retreat, revealing just how very much into this his overheating frame was. Jutting spike and wet valve greeted Megatron's demanding touch. Another weight was added a moment later and Optimus recognized the spike sliding against his own.

Dark corners of a still-vibrant Cybertron came to his processor - Megatron pinning him against the wall and taking him hard, claiming the young mech.

"Brother," he heard himself gasping as a wave of pleasure rolled across him, hard.

"Not for a long time, now," Megatron groaned as he rubbed their spikes together.

Megatron shifted and lunged forward, leaving Optimus to cry out as the spike impaled him fully. His hands dug into Megatron's frame as the pleasure ripped through him, mixed with pain of a valve long in disuse. His legs spread wider as the mech above him didn't lose momentum, thrusting hard into Optimus over and over, that frantic need still very present.

As the pleasure built towards its pinnacle, the Prime found he was unable to resist sliding his hands over Megatron's splintered chest. The warlord growled, trying to jerk away while still thrusting forward.

"No," he said darkly.

Optimus slid open his own chest plates.

"No sentiments!" Megatron said even more harshly.

"Just let it go," Optimus sighed wearily, softly.

The darker frame shook with intensity as the battered chest plates finally grinded open. The pale light betrayed the weakness of the spark beneath. Optimus' own spark jolted upward, reaching towards the other life and Megatron came crashing down, smashing their chests together.

Optimus roared at the contact, his arms wrapping around the darker frame as they rocked together in fervent motion. Their grunts filled the air, pleasure and something more building up between them.

Overload claimed them both, consuming everything they were. Hot fluid spilled into Optimus but the Prime barely noticed as their sparks merged together, forming a single life-force, strong and determined.

And quiet.

"What now?" Megatron asked in a still voice.

The two mechs sat across from each other, little evidence of their interfacing showing now.

"The Autobots will leave…as the humans have asked," Optimus answered. "And what of you?"

Megatron tilted his helm slightly in thought.

"I'm doubtful my Decepticons will be so willing to follow Sentinel for any great length of time," he finally replied.

"You might be killed."

"So might you."

It was a moot point, really. It didn't matter which died first, they would still die together. Such was the curse of a spark-bond.

No, Optimus mused, it wasn't a curse, not for two sparks who were already intimately familiar with the quiet of death.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Please review as all authors soak in the love!<strong>


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